Tempting Trouble, Grace (McNeil)'s story, is coming out in a week or two. I thought I'd post a sexy excerpt:
***************
Grace moaned. Something was doing horribly
erotic things to her ear, darting in and out, exploring, swirling, seducing. She
tried to twist away from its sexual probing, but found she couldn’t move. Hands
moved over her body, lips seared her skin. He was good, she thought, fighting
off sleep, so clever with that tongue, so strong and tender and—she let out a
scream—horribly wet. Cold water dripped down her back and legs. She forced her
eyes open, still half asleep, expecting to confront some nightmarish creature
frothing at the mouth, dripping all over her.
She was close. It was Lance Mercy
in her bed, on her, holding her down. And he was wet from head to toe. His eyes
were blazing like those of a wild beast on the attack.
Grace closed her eyes and opened
them again, willing her nightmare to go away. It wasn’t one. He was still there
in person. She shrieked again, trying to sit up. “How did you get in here?” Her
panicked voice was hushed, husky from alcohol and sleep.
Lance sat astride her, studying her
wakening horror with renewed amusement. He did like getting back at her for
making him feel jealous. “Some doors can’t be dead-bolted, sweetheart,” he
drawled.
She frowned, then remembered her
sliding door. She called him an extremely unflattering name.
“Tsk, tsk, such language from that
pretty mouth,” he chided.
“You’re wet!” She squirmed. “Get
off, you…oaf!”
“I’m sorry. Here, let me get out of
these wet clothes.”
Grace’s eyes widened, as she slowly
comprehended his meaning. Her mouth tasted like cotton as she watched him pull
his wet shirt off and toss it carelessly over his shoulder. His chest muscles
were taut, revealing his mood, the movement of his bare arms tense and
deliberate. She started to tremble when his hands reached for the buttons of
his pants. She tried to speak but her tongue seemed to have disappeared, her
eyes wildly following his hands. Finally, she just shook her head at him.
But Lance wasn’t in the mood. “You
got wet from my clothes, sweetheart. Let me help you take them off.” He held on
to the front of her maroon outfit and with one savage tug, tore it down almost
to her waist.
Grace came alive, rearing up and
catching him by surprise, pushing him off. Rolling off the bed, she scrambled
out of the room, almost killing herself with only one high heel on. He hopped
off and followed closely.
“Don’t think you’re going to come
in here and find me soft and pliant after the way you acted out there!” Grace
fumed, hobbling backwards from him.
“You didn’t expect me to be in the
best of moods after the act you pulled at the function, did you?” He stalked
her as she used the sofa as a buffer between them. “Did you?”
“Did I do anything you told me not
to?” she challenged.
“Yes!” he hissed, walking around
the sofa. She half-ran, half-stumbled to the nearby chaise lounge. “I told you
not to interfere.”
“You told me to stay out of the
way,” she corrected, “which I did. I kept my bloody word, so stop glaring at
me! What, do you have any complaints? Didn’t you accomplish your mission?”
Using one arm, Lance vaulted over
the sofa. Grace hastily retreated away from the chaise, trying to think of a
way to calm a savage beast. Half-naked, his hair darkened by the rain, eyes
blazing, he didn’t look anything like the suave deputy advisor to the Council
of Asian Trade. Her heart thumped against her throat at the dangerous look in
his eyes.
“You’re right, I did accomplish my
mission,” he informed her, his eyes level, “and now I’ve come to accomplish my
other one.”
She swallowed. “What’s that?” She
stared at him as he kept advancing.
“I told you we would celebrate
tonight.” He indicated the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Seems like you
started without me.”
Grace’s back bumped into the
sliding door that led to the balcony. “I wanted to be alone,” she told him,
still defiant.
“And I told you I would be back
later.” He was close enough to grab her. “Did you have any doubts I would?”
“Yes! I don’t want you here!” She
turned, slid open the glass door, and ran out into the rain.
She was dead meat. Lance followed
her, cornering her against the banister. Rain half-blinded her as he twined his
fingers in her wet hair, pulling her face up to meet his.
“You have a hearing problem, love. I
also told you,” he said over the drumming of the rain around them, “that game
time is over, Grace. I meant it.”
********
Hope you liked it!
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